


Scribbles

by w6rship



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Coloring, Drawing, False Hope, Fuck them, I feel like nobody talks about Kalluto, Inspired by a Kokeshi Doll, Light Angst, Melancholy, i really hate the zoldycks, light emotional abuse, my poor small child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27208327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w6rship/pseuds/w6rship
Summary: He was not his mother’s greatest work of art, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to win her over.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Scribbles

**Author's Note:**

> i’d like to thank @/ goldensprite on Tumblr for beta-ing this for me!!

It was a cold day. Dark clouds cast shadows over the Zoldyck Mansion, and the winds scratched harshly at the walls. And tucked safely inside the bricked estate sat Kalluto Zoldyck, nestled in a chair with paper and scissors. 

  
  


He wasn’t much older then the age of seven (7) at the time. He’d been spending quite a bit of time indoors, tailing his mother like a duckling, and desperately answering to her every beck and call. Earlier that day, he’d even let her cut his hair into a short bobs, though it was a drag that his bangs constantly fell into his face and made his eyes water. When it happened, he’d scrunch up his nose and softly try to blow them out of the way. But since she was happy with it, then it’d be okay!

  
  


So as his scrawny-pale-frame sat hunched over a desk and he blew at his forehead, he began to snip away at the paper. His scissors maneuvered, unwavering from the dark colored lines, making sure that the edges were cleanly cut. He had taken a liking to doing this, drawing and then cutting free pretty pieces of art., His mother adored them too, shrieking about how her baby boy was just _so_ talented. He smiled at the thought of her being proud of him for once, and at just about the same time, the scissors had stopped moving and he finished cutting the figure out. 

  
  


He slid off of the chair, leaving the paper figure on his desk, and pranced over to his dresser. Crouching down, he yanked open the bottom drawer and delicately grabbed a bag of sharpened colored pencils. His big brother Killua had bought them for him for one of his birthdays a few years back, and the boy treated them like the holy grail, with ever such delicacy and grace. They were sacred to him, and his tongue slipped out in concentration as he tenderly emptied the contents onto his desk. It sounded like marbles dropping when they hit the wood, surprisingly loud. 

  
  


He hoped they were ok. 

  
  


He picked up a pink pencil from the pile and began to color in the blank spaces. He would make this extra special;, she would be so proud of him and his aniki’s would be impressed! In hindsight, this was a melancholy moment in Kalluto’s life. Many years later he would laugh at his naive whims, because, after all, his family did not care as much as he had thought they did when he was young. 

  
  


But, little-Kalluto happily scribbled away with the different colors of the rainbow, the whole Roy G Biv. He made the art splash and pop with colors, humming a lively tune as he did so. 

  
  


And finally, it was done. The figure was of a Kokeshi doll, with red painted cheeks and a pastel kimono. The background, behind the drawing of the doll, was colored a blue and orange ombré, resembling a sunset. To the child, this 

was a masterpiece that he wanted to flaunt off proudly. 

  
  


His footsteps were masked by the heavy rain pounding onto the roof as he bounced down the halls and into the living room, where his mother and other-brother, Illumi, sat. 

  
  


They glanced over at the boy, watching on expectantly. He radiated giddiness, shoving the drawing towards them.

  
  


“Look! Look what I made! Doesn’t it look nice?” He rambled. 

  
  


His mother nodded, bursting out into some faux rant about how amazing it looked, wiping away a few crocodile tears to seal the deal. Of course, at the time, Kalluto did not take note of this either. 

  
  


Illumi did not give any praise, but had shrugged his shoulders and left the room. Kalluto hadn’t paid mind to it;, he was just happy that his mother seemed to enjoy it. It made him feel fuzzy with joy. 

  
  


Though it was built on lies, he was glowing with happiness for the rest of that rainy day


End file.
